


These Nights are Long

by 8ucky8arnes



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ucky8arnes/pseuds/8ucky8arnes
Summary: Buck couldn’t feel anything. Not Bobby’s arms wrapped around him. Not the full body-ache that would be bruising come morning. Not the rain pouring from the sky or the mud caked to his exposed skin. None of it mattered.Not when Eddie was trapped below them.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 390





	These Nights are Long

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this one-shot has been in the works since Eddie Begins and, at nearly 9k, is officially my longest yet. I hit multiple roadblocks along the way (hence the three weeks spent on this) but I think I am finally happy with how it turned out. The title is from "Carry You" by Ruelle and Fleurie (obviously) because, after that montage, I couldn't not use it.
> 
> Trigger warnings for panic attacks as well nightmares depicting drowning and being buried alive.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

“Eddie! _Eddie!_ ”

Buck couldn’t feel anything. Not Bobby’s arms wrapped around him. Not the full body-ache that would be bruising come morning. Not the rain pouring from the sky or the mud caked to his exposed skin. None of it mattered.

Not when Eddie was trapped below them.

Forty feet out of reach.

Forty feet from freedom, from safety, from the 118, from his family-

From _Christopher_.

The last thought tore through the numbness, bringing the world crashing down around him in a cacophony of sounds and sensation; of lightning and thunder and freezing rain, of the red and blue lights of the fire trucks, of the warmth of Bobby’s tight embrace, of the ache in his chest as his heart threw itself against his ribs over and over, like it too wanted to burst from its confines and follow Eddie into the earth.

He sucked in a sharp breath, pushing away from Bobby onto his hands and knees, the ground under him blurring with tears as he gasped, struggling to draw air in. Mud squished between his fingers as they curled into fists, yet another reminder of what might be buried underneath-

_No._ He shook his head. _He’s not dead. Not yet._

The urge to claw at the earth gnawed at him, telling Buck that he _had_ to keep going, _needed_ to keep going, and his mind (overactive on the best of days) was conjuring up images of all the ways that he could die: suffocation, hypoxia, hypothermia, drowning…

_“Christopher!”_

Buck squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push all thoughts of rushing water into the box in the back of his mind but they just kept pushing back, threatening to pull him under, to press down on him until he was lost to the blind panic-

“Buck?”

Bobby’s hands on his shoulders were grounding and Buck could hear the blatant worry in the man’s voice. Worry for _him_ and the fear that he would be told to stay away from the rescue efforts overrode everything long enough for him to piece himself back together into some semblance of calm stability.

“Buck?”

He took one deep breath, then another before slowly getting to his feet, aware of the eyes of the 118 watching every move he made as he straightened. Buck looked at where the hole had been and the gouges he’d left in the mud before facing Bobby, “I’m fine.”

The man stared at him, brows furrowed. “Buck…”

“Let’s get Eddie out.” He moved past his captain, away from the spot where Eddie had disappeared. Having that reminder so near was already waning on his hastily constructed mask and he needed to focus on the task at hand before he completely fell apart. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Bobby frowned but said nothing more as he turned back to the house.

Buck followed close behind, his body thrumming with pent up nerves and adrenaline, sensing both Hen and Chim’s presence. He could feel their concern and their fear pressing into him, that pressure causing cracks to spread. He could barely handle his torrent of emotions let alone theirs.

Too much. It was just all too much.

This needed to be over. _Now_.

Every second that passed that they did nothing was another second that Eddie remained trapped underground. Running out of oxygen. Running out of time. His mind spiraled once more and that rising panic had him pushing past Bobby as they entered the house, ignoring Hen and Chimney’s looks, “Cap, we gotta go dig.”

“We don’t have a drill, Buck, and even if we could get another one up here, their access road is flooded.” Bobby’s words were underlain with worry and although a part of Buck knew that what the man was saying was true and logical, a larger part was angered.

“Okay, then we dig by hand!” The words spilled out of him, the same words that had been going around and around in his head since Bobby had pulled him away. That same urge curling his hands into fists and tempting him, drawing him to go back and try again. He had to keep trying. He couldn’t give up-

“Not with all this rain.” Chim spoke up, “We could trigger another collapse.”

Buck turned to the engineer next to him, “How long can he last down there?”

He sighed, “You’re talking thirty feet of wet earth coming right down on top of him.”

Buck looked at Bobby, then Chimney, his stomach sinking as the man’s tone became clear. They didn’t think he was alive. They thought he was already gone. Already dead. Buried under the ground. Anger flared in his chest at the thought. Had they seriously given up? So soon? “Wait, you all think he’s dead.”

Bobby’s voice was firm, “ _Nobody_ thinks that.”

Chim shook his head, “We just don’t know how to get him out.”

Hen took his arm and squeezed hard, forcing him to look at her, her dark eyes holding his as she spoke calmly and precisely, as though to get the words through his head. “Nobody’s given up on him. _Nobody_. We’re going to find him.”

She’d always been able to read his thoughts so well, especially where Eddie was concerned and Buck remembered a time from what felt like so long ago when she’d been the one trapped under a collapsing building. Where she’d been alone. Where they’d been told to evacuate and refused. A situation reversed. History repeating itself…

Buck swallowed, eyes burning with tears, and _God_ , it was so tempting to drop the already crumbling walls completely. To let go. To sink into his emotions because holding back was taking too much from, but he found himself nodding to Hen’s words. “Okay.”

If everyone could remain calm in the face of this, then he would too. He had to.

So he drew in every frantic thought, every vivid image of Eddie’s body being pulled from the mud, every flashback to seeing Christopher pulled under the waves, every urge to dig until his fingers bled with the effort, and shoved it down until the pain was distance. Until he could focus on the task at hand and nothing more.

He once more ignored the looks from Bobby and Hen and Chim, knowing the stoic exterior he’d suddenly wrapped around himself was worrying them and not caring. They had nothing to worry about. He would do his job. Listen to his captain. Be a good firefighter and not have a meltdown. Not go against orders.

So he stood next to Bobby and listened to the plan, eyes staring sightlessly at the ground, watching as the lights reflected off the puddles in fractals of red and blue, the words filtering in and out like waves, their voices indistinguishable from the other.

_“…oxygen tanks and warming blankets standing by…”_

_“…go outward in concentric circles…”_

_“…use their thermal imaging to scan this wider area…”_

_“…try to pick up Diaz’ heat signature…”_

“Won’t be easy…”

Those three words, though, came through crystal clear and Buck’s eyes snapped to the direction they originated from. He knew that voice. Knew it like his own. Like Maddie’s or Chim’s or Hen’s or Bobby’s or Christopher’s.

_Eddie_.

“Eddie?”

Buck just stared as the firefighters parted, a drenched and muddied form stumbling forward stiffly, like every step was a struggle and then his face lifted upwards and Eddie was looking at them. The sight of the mud and the bruises and the blood and the frightening pallor of his skin hit Buck. “Eddie!”

He said something else, but Buck couldn’t hear it over his own pounding heart in his ears, the relief hitting him for only a moment before Eddie took one last step and collapsed, fear and worry replacing it as he ran forward, needing no orders as he knelt in the mud. He wrapped one hand around his bicep and another around his hand, feeling the coldness through two pairs of thick gloves and squeezing tightly.

Warmth filled Buck as Eddie returned the pressure, a wide grin splitting his face.

He was okay. He was here. He was safe. He was _alive_.

They took him to the nearest ambulance and Buck only released his hand when Eddie turned a tired smile (that shouldn’t have been as beautiful as it was) on him, and said, “I’m okay, Buck. Let them help.”

Buck swallowed, blinked, his cheeks burning as he let go.

Hen and Chim gave him _looks_ as he stayed just out of the way of the two paramedics, watching them remove his gear and cleaned the mud and blood off his face, noting every wince and grimace and clenched jaw as they made a cursory examination of his vitals before fitting him with oxygen and bundling him in warming blankets.

He was still shivering, though, even under the layers, and Buck wanted to go to him more than anything else at that moment. To wrap his arms around him. To pull him close and tell him that everything was okay now. To brush his hair back and kiss his forehead like he’d done so many times with Chris…

Buck w _anted_ so much it scared him.

“Hey.”

He blinked, finding Hen standing in front of him with an odd look. “Yeah?”

“We’re leaving for the hospital now.” She smiled, “Go keep your boy company.”

Buck didn’t bother trying to correct her as he climbed into the back of the ambulance, knowing Hen and Chim were giving each other shit-eating grins in the front as he sat right next to Eddie and leaned over his shoulder, “How are you?”

Eddie gave him that same tired smile, breathing fogging up the mask, “Been worse.”

Buck remembered a time when he’d given the same answer after the ladder truck, then the tsunami, and how Eddie had just sighed and shook his head. Buck smiled despite his worry for his downplaying such a serious situation, knowing he was getting a taste of his own medicine. “Something tells me you’re going to be a horrible patient.”

Hen piped up from the driver’s seat, “Takes one to know one!”

Eddie chuckled when Buck pouted, the sound breaking apart in a coughing fit.

Buck’s hand immediately went to his back, rubbing gentle circles and grimaced with each rattling cough. He knew the feeling of your body trying to expel water that was no longer there and his diaphragm ached at the memories of those days following the tsunami. “Eddie?”

“I’m fine.” He cracked a smile, “Just don’t make me laugh.”

“How else am I supposed to get you to smile?”

Eddie looked at him, amused, “Tellin’ me I need to smile more?”

“Maybe.” Buck grinned. “What’re you gonna say if I do?”

Eddie was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before he let out a yawn, drowsiness setting in as the adrenaline bled out of him. He laid his head on Buck’s shoulder and closed his eyes, “Don’t know. Let me sleep on it.”

Buck blinked, sure his expression was frozen in shock if Hen’s stifled laughter was anything to go by but he didn’t acknowledge it. _Couldn’t_ acknowledge it. Not as Eddie sagged into his side under the weight of all he’d endured; complete and utterly exhausted; his eyelashes dark against his cheeks, features softening in his sleep much like his son’s.

He didn’t move the entire drive to the hospital, save pulling the blanket back up around him whenever it slipped off his shoulders and was positive Hen or Chim snapped a quick picture, having heard the tell-tale sign of the camera going off when the ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the hospital.

Buck rolled his eyes even as his cheeks burned, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “Hey, man. Eddie.” He gently took his shoulder and shook, smiling when Eddie started, eyes bleary with drowsiness and pain. “We’re at the hospital.”

Awareness returned, Eddie pulled down his mask, “Christopher, I need to-”

“ _You_ don’t need to do anything except getting better in time for Show-and-Tell on Friday.” Buck smiled, his heartwarming like it always did when he saw how much he cared for Chris. Even after nearly dying, that boy was his first thought. “I’ll relieve Carla.”

Eddie frowned, “You don’t have to-”

Buck grinned, “I’m doing it and you can’t stop me.”

He sighed, “You’re too stubborn for your own good, Buckley.”

Buck hummed, moving the mask back over his face, “That’s what you love about me.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up to his mouth and when it did, Buck’s stomach dropped to the floor as Eddie stared at him with a confused expression that quickly morphed into shock, and Buck couldn’t have been more thankful for Hen and Chim’s interruption. “I’ll call Carla. Just listen to these two, alright?”

“Buck…”

He shot him a quick smile, sliding out of the ambulance before he completely lost it.

_How could I be so stupid?_

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stave off the panic before anyone else saw and started asking questions because if they did, Buck would spill everything and he couldn’t handle that. They couldn’t know. _He_ couldn’t know. Not right now. Not like this…

Buck ran a hand through his hair, “Shitshitshit-”

“Evan?”

Buck stopped his pacing, only to start fidgeting, “Maddie? What are you doing here?”

“Chim called me.” Her eyes dropped to his wringing hands, “He was worried about you.”

“God, everyone’s so fucking worried.” Buck dragged a hand over his face, his laugh bordering on self-deprecating. His voice, though, came out angrier than intended, “It’s not like I’m the one who almost died or anything. I’m _fine_.”

“No, you’re not.” She frowned, barely reacting to his tone, “Something happened.”

“ _Nothing_ happened.”

And nothing _had_ happened. He’d overreacted to something that could’ve easily been taken as a joke and now he’d given his feelings away like an idiot. Buck couldn’t get Eddie’s confused-then-shocked expression out of his mind, and the urge to move, to get far, _far_ away from this conversation, nagged at him, but he knew Maddie would only follow.

She was stubborn like that. Like him.

_Hearts of gold and heads of stone._

It’d been an off-hand comment he’d overheard Chim say to Hen and, at the time, Buck had just laughed and shook his head because it was true. While Maddie had always done a better job of hiding it from others than him, she too was just as stubborn and impulsive as he was, and now…

“Are you trying to convince me or you?”

Buck _hated_ those shared traits now because he knew she meant well. She always meant well where he was concerned, and right now he wished that was something ( _anything_ ) he could say to shake her off, but she would only cling tighter. Or hit him over the head until he saw sense. With her, it could go either way.

His silence was answer enough, Maddie reaching out to put her hand over his and squeeze, momentarily putting a stop to their shaking and forcing him to look at her, “Evan, _talk_ to me. What happened?”

“I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Maddie smiled, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Ha ha.” Buck looked in the direction of the ambulance bay, “I…overreacted, is all.”

“And does this _overreaction_ have anything to do with what you said to Eddie?”

He just stared at her, eyes wide as he pulled back, “What did Chim say to you?”

“Nothing that your face just didn’t.” Maddie’s face softens further as she stepped closer, whether in sisterly reassurance or genuine concern Buck couldn’t tell but then she smiled and he could see the latter in her eyes, “You seem to forget that I know how you think.”

“Mads, seriously, what did he say?”

She caught his wrist, “That you were scared. _Terrified_ of losing him.”

Buck’s eyes stung with tears and his cheeks burned, throat closing as he remembered how he’d screamed Eddie’s name, felt the mud between his fingers as he tried to dig, how it’d taken considerable strength on Bobby’s part to hold him back, how he’d sobbed into his captain’s lap like a child…

“It’s okay, Evan-”

“No, it’s not!” He snapped, guilty at the flash of hurt on his sister’s face and immediately drawing her into a hug that she was quick to return, giving Buck just enough time to regain control of his facial expressions. “I said something that I can’t take back and now he probably won’t want to talk to me.”

She snorted, “I doubt that.”

Buck frowned.

“It’s probably taking a team of nurses to keep him from coming out here. That man is as stubborn as you are” Her smile widened as she took a step back, a strange look passing over her features the longer she stared at him, “You told him you loved him, didn’t you?”

And _there’s_ the proverbial hit over the head he’d been hoping to avoid.

He pulled away, “I really need to call Carla-”

“Buck, come on-”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore alright?”

Her lips pursed, clearly displeased with his avoidance of the conversation, but just sighed and released her hold. Maddie shot him a look that meant they were _not_ done talking about this by any means. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” He said in tone they both knew meant the opposite, “Promise.”

She smiled anyway, “Okay.”

Buck watched her walk away, guilt churning his stomach, and he almost called her back, hating that he couldn’t sort out the mess in his head. So he did what he always did when confused with his feelings: focus on something else entirely.

He pulled out his cell and dialed Carla’s number.

She answered on the first ring, “Buckaroo.”

“Hey, Carla.”

There was a rustling before she spoke again, “I saw the news. You alright?”

Buck almost laughed, “I wasn’t the one that went down.”

Carla’s worry could be felt, “How is he?”

“Exhausted, but otherwise he’s fine. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation.”

She sighed, “You two…”

Buck smiled, “Christopher?”

“He’s been out for maybe an hour.”

_So late? He should’ve checked in on him sooner…_

“Now don’t go blaming yourself, Buck.” She chided, like she could read his mind, “He’s always had a hard time getting to sleep when you both work twenty-four hour shifts. Has nothing to do with tonight’s events, alright? You have nothing to worry about.”

“So he doesn’t know about…?”

“No. I didn’t turn on the news until he was asleep.” She was silent for a long moment and Buck could hear the muffled sound of a TV in the background, “If you need me to stay with him a little longer, it’s no problem.”

“No, I’m coming over actually.”

“Are you sure? You can go home and get some rest-”

“It’s fine, Carla.” The last thing Buck wanted to do was go back to his empty, silent apartment and be alone with his thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to sleep there, but maybe, just maybe, Chris’ company would be able to calm his mind just long enough to help. “It’ll be easier to talk to him in the morning anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then.”

“See you.” He ended the call, catching his reflection in the now-black screen of his phone; blonde hair dark and caked with mud, face covered in sweat and streaked with black and brown and blue eyes bloodshot and puffy…

Shower first. Then Eddie’s house.

…

Carla pulled him into a hug as soon as she opened the door, taking his face in her hands and turning from side to side before frowning at whatever she saw. Then she dropped her hands with a sad smile, “I’m only one call away.”

“I know.” He nodded, “Thank you, Carla.”

As soon as the front door shut, Buck moved silently toward the back of the house to peek into Christopher’s room and smiled at the head of blonde curls sticking up under the comforter, watching the body rise and fall evenly.

While it did help some, the pictures Christopher had drawn on the corkboard by the doorway had caught Buck’s eye and the sight of him, Eddie, and Chris being labeled as “My Family” had his eyes burning and he left before he made any noise to wake the boy.

_Had he ruined that for Chris?_

He shut those thoughts done quickly, deciding now that it wouldn’t matter what happened between him and Eddie because he would always be there for him. He refused to leave that kid ever again, no matter what.

He set his duffel down next to the couch and changed into an off-white Henley and sweats before plugging his phone in and turning off the lights, easily finding his way to the couch in the dark and curling up on his side, wrapping the throw blanket around himself.

The exhaustion eventually pulled him under.

…

_“Buck! Buck!”_

_“Christopher!”_

_He spun around, searching the darkness to pinpoint a direction in which to go but the voice was all around him and he just started running. He had to save Christopher. He couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not ever. “Christopher!”_

_Buck heard the water before he felt it and looked down to see it steadily rising past his ankles, his knees, his waist… His panic rose with it as he pushed against the tide, screaming into the void around him. “Christopher! Christopher, can you hear me?!”_

_Faint splashing came from behind him and he turned, catching the faint glow of a lone street lamp off a striped yellow shirt before the child’s frightened scream sounded through the air and into his head, the pain like an ice pick behind his eyes._

_“Buck!”_

_He tried to move towards him but all he could do was hopelessly struggle against the current of water now at his chest. It was a cold band tightening around him, holding his body in place no matter how hard he fought it. “I need you to let go, Chris! I’ll catch you!”_

_“I’m scared!”_

_“It’s okay, alright. I swear I’ll catch you!”_

_No sooner had the words left him then had Christopher released his hold on the pole, head just above the surface and Buck pushed against the water, reaching out with his hand, and could do nothing when he had the boy’s hand in his for only a moment before the current ripped them apart._

_“NO!” Buck screamed, unable to move, “Christopher!”_

_“Buck!”_

_Christopher’s terrified scream was cut off abruptly as the water dragged Buck under, his body tumbling and twisting as evident by the shadow and light spinning around him. Buck kicked his legs frantically as his lungs ached and burned for air, fighting his body’s urge to breathe in as he strained to reach the surface, to reach Christopher. He had to reach Chris-_

_Buck is thrown from the water and onto the ground with such force that he was unable to move for a long moment, completely stunned, before rolling slowly onto his hands and knees, coughing up saltwater into the muddy earth beneath him-_

_“Buck?”_

_The voice is small and shaky and as familiar as his own._

_His head snapped up to find Eddie clinging to the edges of stable ground, face bruised and bloodied as one hand dug frantically into the mud. His eyes widening further with every inch his body disappears into the sinkhole, those honey-brown depths full of a fear that hit Buck like a knife being thrust into his chest and twisted._

_Buck lunged forward, “Eddie!”_

_“Help me, Buck.” Tears shone in his eyes, “Please.”_

_Buck grasped at the man’s forearm, nails biting into his skin as he pulled back with every ounce of strength he had but his feet only slid as the quicksand sucked Eddie deeper, the black mud now halfway up his torso, “Nononono, Eddie come on! You gotta fight!”_

_“I’m trying, Buck, I’m trying!”_

_Buck’s grip slipped as Eddie was pulled back sharply, finally catching on his wrist, the latter grunting in pain as bone shifted under the steel grip and Buck couldn’t find it in him to apologize as he grit his teeth and tried again._

_With the next tug, though, only Buck’s fingers were hooked with Eddie’s and they were slipping. The damn mud made it near impossible to get a good grip, but he refused to give up. He’d already failed Chris. He wasn’t going to fail Eddie. “No…”_

_“Buck…” His voice was tired, resigned._

_“No!” He choked out, trying (and failing) to regain his grip, “I’m not letting you go!”_

_Eddie smiled, teeth white against the mud and blood caked on his face._

_Buck knew what was going to happen just a second before it did, Eddie’s fingers being torn from his completely and Buck could do nothing as the ground swallowed him whole only to solidify when Buck threw himself down and began digging, “Eddie!”_

_He couldn’t lose them._

_“Eddie!”_

_Not when he’d finally found them._

_Found something that made him fucking_ happy _._

_“Eddie!”_

Buck awoke with a choked sound that might’ve been a scream if he could even fucking breathe and he kicked off the blanket. He just refrained from stumbling forward, knowing that the coffee table was close but unable to see it in the dark house through eyes blurred with tears.

He put his hand between his knees and tried to remember the exercises Maddie had taught him when he’d been a teenager, exercises that had always helped before, but the parallels his mind had drawn between the tsunami and the collapse were all he could think about. All he could _see_. All he could _hear_. All he could _feel_. Fuck, he could still taste the saltwater.

His stomach lurched dangerously and he nearly fell forward to brace himself on the coffee table before remembering how low to the ground it was and catching himself before he face-planted and woke Christopher up.

_“Christopher!”_

_“Buck! I’m scared!”_

A sob forced itself past the lump in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to draw breath in but he couldn’t remember how long he was supposed to inhale or how long he was supposed to hold it or-

_Damnit._

The band around his chest tightened further and no amount of fucking breathing or visualization exercises were helping. He knew he was having a panic attack, but the realization did little more than make himself feel worse or remind him that, yet again, he’d made it about himself.

Not, Hayden, who’d been trapped and scared and alone.

Not his mother, who could do nothing except watch and wait for her child to come home.

Not Eddie, who’d almost been fucking _buried alive_.

No, he’d somehow managed to turn a bad call into yet _another_ reminder of all the ways _he’d_ fucked up; of how selfish and self-centered _he_ was to put his emotions over theirs; of proving just how exhausting _he_ truly was to everyone around him and why they always left him.

The living room light turned on and a new wave of panic hit him.

He’d woken Christopher.

Buck couldn’t move from his hunched-over position on the couch, his ringing ears unable to place where the boy was in the room and afraid to even try standing. His vision was darkening at the edges and Buck knew any effort he made to stand now would result in him blindly stumbling and the last thing he needed on his conscious was accidentally knocking over Christopher.

A small hand touched his forearm, fingers tracing the cursive words.

_“What does your tattoo say, Buck?”_

_He watched Christopher move his hands over the ink with a furrowed brow and pursed lips and Buck smiled fondly as he recited the quote from memory, “I saw an angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”_

_“What does that mean?”_

_“It’s a quote by an artist named Michelangelo.” He sat back into the couch, “He was famous for all of these…amazing sculptures that he carved out of marble. Spent years on them even.” Buck laughed as Christopher’s eyes went wide at the fact, “He could look at this slab of marble and see something no one else could.”_

_“So why did you pick those words?”_

_Buck had seen the question coming and yet, it still drew him up short and was suddenly aware of Eddie’s eyes on him and could picture his amused expression clearly: the slight tilt to his head, the small crooked smile, his bright eyes…_

_“Yeah, Buck. Why that quote?”_

_He turned to shoot Eddie a look that only made that smile widen._

_“I chose it because…” he stumbled, trying to figure out how in the hell he could explain the real story behind the tattoo. How did one explain the weeks he’d spent in South America as a “muse” to an artist sans clothing? Very vaguely, although he was sure Eddie would see it clearly enough. God, this was going to be…embarrassing, to say the least._

_He cleared his throat, refusing to even look at Eddie and focus entirely on Chris, knowing that what he said next would reveal more about himself to Eddie than his son, but there hadn’t been a single instant that told Buck it could be received poorly. “A close friend of mine, Emilio, was an artist. Said the quote reminded him of me. That I was his…angel.”_

_A strange choked sound came from Eddie, but Christopher only cocked his head to the side, looking at him with only mild confusion in those blue-grey eyes before grinning, “Like a guardian angel, right?”_

_“Yeah, buddy,” he chuckled, “just like that.”_

He returned to the present, the pressure on his chest lessening, and felt himself smiling when he looked up through teary eyes to find Christopher, moving to wrap a gentle arm around the boy, “Hey, Chris.” He inwardly winced at his hoarse voice as he pulled back, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay.” He stared at Buck, “Was it a bad dream?”

He smiled, “Yeah, but it’s nothing you need to worry about, alright?”

Chris touched his damp cheeks, “But you’re crying.”

“I’m okay, buddy.”

“No, you’re not.” Those blue-grey eyes looked at him with such a level of understanding that it broke Buck’s heart. No child should ever understand what Buck was going through and once again he was reminded that those reasons were his fault. “You’re sad and scared.”

Buck just stared down at him.

“I know that you don’t like making people sad, Buck.” He moved closer to Buck as he said this, the next words seeming so loud in the quiet of the living room, “Daddy doesn’t either, but…he told that it’s okay to be sad sometimes. That it’s…important to talk about how you feel too.”

He felt as though he’d been sucker-punched for a moment and took a deep breath to steady himself, swallowing thickly as he pulled the boy closer and resting his chin on those messy curls for one heartbeat, then another before pulling back. “You’re a smart kid, you know that?”

Chris smiled, reaching up to pat his cheek, “You’re gonna be okay.”

Buck was surprised by how easily he smiled, “Thank you, Christopher.”

Chris rubbed at his eyes and yawned.

“Alright, Superman,” Everything ached and despite the nightmare lingering on the edges of his thoughts, the recent events and panic attack had left him exhausted to the bone. He ignored his body’s protests as he lifted the boy, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Stay with me?”

Buck chuckled, “I think I’m a bit big for your bed, Chris.”

Christopher shook his head, giggling, “Not my bed, Buck. _Dad’s_.”

Buck's cheeks burned at the thought, stumbling a step, “Christopher, I don’t-”

“Dad won’t be mad, Buck.” He smiled, “I promise.”

Buck didn’t bother disputing his words, not eager to explain that that wasn’t the reason why he must’ve looked so scared. He smiled at the boy, ruffling his curls and the resulting laughter lightened the weight pressing down on him further. It wasn’t completely gone, but Buck knew this was as close as he would get for the foreseeable future. “I guess if you’re sure…”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, “I’m sure.”

Buck would never be able to say no to this kid, so he just adjusted the boy’s weight in his arms and continued down the hall, only pausing for a moment in the doorway before pushing past his trepidation and going in.

Christopher tugged at his shirt, forcing him to stop.

“What is it?”

He pointed to the left side of the bed, “Daddy always sleeps on that side.”

Buck blinked, hating that his first thing that came to mind was that he slept on the _right_ side and pushed all thoughts of sharing a bed with Eddie into the box in the far, _far_ corner of his brain and slamming it shut. “Do you want to sleep on the other side?”

He shook his head, “You can sleep in Daddy’s spot.”

Buck glanced at the immaculately made bed, noting that the left side of the bed was closer to the door, thus closer to Christopher’s room. Another one of those little things that had Buck falling more in love with the man. He smiled reassuringly at the boy even as the cracks in his heart spread just a little bit further than before. “Okay.”

He tucked Chris in first before walking around and sliding underneath the sheets, instinctively lifting his arm as the boy curled into his side. Buck watched as Christopher fell back asleep quickly, his breath warm through the material of Buck’s shirt, and absorbed every second he could before he too fell asleep.

…

“Buck?”

He groaned as the something prodded at his shoulder, too groggy to properly register the voice, and burrowed deeper into the pillow. He ached all over, like one enormous bruise. He just wanted to _sleep_. The bed was soft and warm and smelled like-

The blanket was ripped off him.

“Wakey-wakey, Buckaroo!”

_Carla?_

The events of the previous night washed over him and he shot upright, eyes wide and face flushed as he saw the smug curl in the caretaker’s smile. She’d found him in Eddie’s house, in Eddie’s _bed_ no less. God knew what she was thinking… “What time is it?”

“Nearly nine.”

_Shit._ “Christopher?”

She hummed, “That boy’s showered and eating his breakfast. He’s fine.”

He finally registered the smell of waffles coming from the kitchen, his stomach grumbling, and Buck tried to remember when he’d last eaten but everything before and after that call was all meshed together in his head. Buck ran a hand down his face, breathing ragged. “And Eddie?”

“Your sister called to let me know that he is being released within the hour,” she had an odd look in her eyes as she watched him stand to begin the process of making the bed, “she also said that Eddie wants to talk to you about what happened last night?”

Buck halted in pulling up the sheets, stomach plummeting to his feet as the blood drained from his face. His hands begun to tremble and he curled them into the fabric until his knuckles turned white, the action not missed by Carla.

_Not again. Not again. Not again._

Her hand settled on his elbow, grounding and steady, “Buck?”

His eyes blurred and his ears rang, that pressure on his chest returning tenfold at the thought of Eddie walking through that door. Buck kept running through that argument at the market over and over again. The anger that had darkened his eyes and sharpened his tongue, every word designed to cause maximum damage.

She steered him around and sat him down, gently guiding his head between his knees like it was any other day and Buck was sure she was saying something but no outside sound could piece the white noise in his head.

_“You’re exhausting!”_

How many times had those words left his dad’s mouth? His mom’s? How many times had they just rolled their eyes at their child’s tears because they just “didn’t have the time” or tell him to “just get over it”?

_“How come you can’t see my side of this?”_

_“Because that’s all you see!”_

Eddie’s words had joined his parents’, but they seemed to hurt twice as much because Buck had known more than the anger and the exasperation and the disappointment. He knew what it was like to see him smile and laugh at his antics. He knew what it felt like to have those arms wrapped around him. Those hands on his shoulders and the side of his neck, thumb pressed to his pulse… To have those eyes look at him with such fondness. Such trust…

“Buck, hon, can you hear me?”

But he’d ruined it all because he overreacted. Because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Because he couldn’t just be happy with what he had. Because he was greedy and selfish and asked for too much. Asked for things he had no right to. Assumed things he had no right to assume…

“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

Carla’s voice finally broke through and Buck squeezed the hand in his so tightly he was sure he cut off her circulation, the woman’s touch an anchor amidst the hurricane that was his thoughts; a guiding light to draw him out of his panic and back onto steady ground; so he held it tight and refused to let go. He knew Carla wouldn’t leave him. She would stay.

“That’s it, Buck. That’s it.” Her other fingers moved gently over his back, a constant back and forth along his spine and over the taut muscles that didn’t cease. “Now I want you to focus on taking deep breaths in and out through your mouth-”

“Count…to…four?”

“Yes.” The smile in her voice could be heard, “I need you to breathe in for a count of four, hold for a second, and then breathe out for a count of four. I’ll count for you, Buck, okay. Can you do that for me?”

He gave a jerky nod.

“Okay. Now inhale…”

Buck concentrated only on her voice and the counts, forcing his lungs to cooperate and he didn’t know how long it was before the tension left his body completely. He accepted Carla’s embrace without a word, a sob hitching in his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Shhh.” She took his face in her hands, brushing his tears away with her thumbs and a smile that warmed Buck’s chest. “You have nothing to apologize for Buckaroo, alright? It’s been a long, overwhelming twenty-four hours for everyone. You and Eddie especially.”

Buck shook his head, “But nothing happened to-”

“I talked to Bobby.” Her dark eyes held his, “We both know that something did.”

_“Eddie!”_

“I overreacted, is all.”

Now Carla was frowning, whether from his words or his tone he wasn’t sure, but her fingers tightened on his jaw. She searched his expression for a long moment, “I don’t know who’s told you your feelings don’t matter or aren’t relevant, Evan Buckley, but they were wrong. You nearly lost someone you love. It’s completely understandable.”

His face flushed, mouth opening and closing as he failed to get words out.

Carla just smiled, patting his cheek, “Those baby blues of yours are an open book, Buckaroo.”

“But…” he blinked, watching her walk to the other side of the bed, “Does everyone-?”

She laughed, “I’m sure the only person who doesn’t is the man himself.”

“Not anymore.” He grumbled.

He hadn’t meant for her to hear the words, but she paused in drawing the sheets up, looking at him in a way he’d seen Athena do many times with suspicious calls and he knew Carla had put all the pieces together. He was surprised, though, when her expression softened.

“You have nothing to be scared of, Buck.” She smiled, “Now go get some breakfast.”

“But-”

“I’ll make the bed.” She jerked her head, “Go see Christopher.”

Knowing better than to argue with Carla, he left the bedroom to find the boy giggling up a storm as the morning cartoons play and he can’t but smile at boy’s bright grin upon seeing him, letting out an exaggerated grunt as Chris plowed into him. “Someone’s in a good mood!”

“You slept for a long time.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay.” The boy shrugged, unbothered by the fact that the person who was supposed to watching him slept right through a phone call and Carla coming into the house. “I called Carla and I told her I wanted to make you breakfast because you had a bad dream.”

_This kid…_ Buck couldn’t really get upset with him saying as much to Carla when the woman had literally just pulled from his second (third?) panic attack in the last twenty-four hours. Like Maddie, Chris always meant well in his intentions regarding him, and he would never fault either of them for it. He smiled, “What’s for breakfast then?”

“Waffles!”

“Waffles!” He lifted the boy onto his hip, Chris’ giggling a balm to the bruises he knew had blossomed underneath his Henley overnight. He felt them with every movement he made as he walked into the kitchen and set him down, “How’d you know?”

“Because you _told_ me!” Chris watched as Buck carefully poured the batter into the waffle maker before closing it, grinning as Buck moved through the kitchen, practically bouncing, “Can I help put the whipped cream on? _Please_?”

“Of _course,_ ” Buck said in a tone that conveyed he never would’ve thought of doing something so important without the kid’s assistance and he could picture the fond smile that would curl Eddie’s mouth so clearly it hurt.

He opened the waffle maker, using a fork to move it to the plate which was then taken to the table with all necessary ingredients and utensils laid out. He pulled the chair out, only moving it closer to the table once Christopher was completely seated, “You ready?”

“Let’s do this!”

He smiled as he removed the lid to the whipped cream and held out the spoon so that Christopher could grasp it before stepping back entirely and watched as the boy concentrated, the intense concentration in that gaze so much like his father’s during a call as he scooped the whipped cream and dropped it onto his waffle.

When Chris went for another scoop, Buck’s brows lifted, “ _Two_ scoops?”

Chris nodded, “Daddy lets me have two scoops after a bad dream.”

The mention of his father didn’t hurt any less but he smiled wide anyway, long accustomed to hiding everything behind it. It wouldn’t do to ruin what remaining time he had with Christopher because he was worried about his own shit. “Two scoops it is then.”

With just as much concentration as before, he added another scoop.

Buck dug in with gusto to Christopher’s delight, making faces and over the top noises that had the kid laughing uncontrollably. Buck soaked up the sound like much-needed sunlight, the breakfast quickly devolving into a tickle match that ended abruptly when the front door opened and Christopher screamed.

“Daddy!”

Buck went rigid where he stood in the kitchen, eyes fixed on his white knuckles as he held onto the counter like it was the only keeping him from sinking to the floor and he was relieved that his emotions seemed just as frozen as everything else. If he panicked now…

A warm hand settled on his back, “Evan?”

He let out a shaky breath before straightening, “Hey, Mads.”

She reached up to take his face in her hands, her expression growing sadder with every second that passed. Maddie always could read him like a book when they’d been younger and while it had been years, she knew the marks nightmares and panic attacks left on him and said nothing as she pulled him into a hug.

It took everything he had not to crumble in his sister’s arms like he had so many times before but Buck had to keep his composure for just a little bit longer. He needed to have this conversation now before he lost what little nerve he had left.

He pulled back, hands gentle on her shoulders, “Can you…?”

“Sure.” Maddie smiled, “Love you, Evan.”

“Love you too, Mads.” He returned her smile, “And thanks.”

Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she walked over and Buck watched as Maddie said something to both Eddie and Carla before whispering something into Christopher’s ear that had the three walking out and leaving just Buck and Eddie as the front door shut behind them.

For a long moment, they could do nothing but stare at each other.

Eddie’s face showed nothing except mild wariness and caution, a look that, when combined with the shadows under his eyes and scabbed over scratches on his skin, was as alarming to Buck as it was unfamiliar.

Buck wondered how much of it was his fault and unsurprisingly, he was the first to break the tense silence with an apology. His voice trembled as the words poured out of him, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I never meant to assume anything or make you uncomfortable and if you want me to leave, I can-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Buck.”

He snapped his mouth shut, not expecting those words.

Eddie’s demeanor softened like Buck had inadvertently proven some hypothesis of his wrong and was relieved, motioning to the couch. “Do you mind if I sit down? It’s been a long morning for me and it’d be nice to get off my feet-”

Broken from his stupor, Buck nodded, “Of course, yeah.”

Eddie sinks into the couch with a grimace before he let his head fall back, eyes closed as he let out a long breath. A smile played at the corner of his mouth as he patted the cushion next to him, no doubt feeling Buck’s hesitancy, “Sit. I promise I won’t bite.”

He lowered himself onto the couch, mindful to keep inches between their bodies.

Eddie lifted his head, turning curious eyes on him, “Why would I want you to leave?”

Buck looked down at his hands, plucking at his shirt, and could’ve laughed at the horrible irony of his own words being repeated as a question. He’d always been the one left behind without an explanation and here he was, nearly doing the same thing to someone who’d also been left and God, didn’t that just make him feel worse?

So laugh he did, the sound without humor as tears blurred his vision. “Because you…”

A hand reached out to stall his fidgeting and squeezed, “Because I _what_?”

How was he so fucking _calm_?

Buck looked down at Eddie’s hand, the tan skin contrasting nicely with his own paler tone and was so, _so_ tempted to slide his fingers through Eddie’s and never let go. To tap into that strength and steadiness that Buck had been envious of at first but had quickly grown to love.

Now, though…now it was just frustrating.

His head snapped up, “Because you don’t want what I want!”

Buck nearly flinched at the echoes of his father in his voice, but the sharpness in his tone didn’t faze Eddie in the slightest. It was almost like he’d been expecting it, gaze never leaving Buck’s as fingers tightened around his, the touch cooling his brief flare of anger.

“And what _do_ I want?”

The question caught Buck off-guard, “What?”

Eddie smiled, “Do I need to repeat it in Spanish?”

Buck flushed red. “No, it’s just…”

He raised a brow, content to wait.

He tried to read Eddie’s face, to see if he could get even a glimpse of what was going on behind those eyes and that smile but the man was a lot better at concealing his true emotions than Buck had been as of late and knew that Eddie wanted him to figure something out. Something to with his own words…

What did _he_ want?

At that moment, Buck wanted to take that hand in his. He wanted to move closer until he was drunk on the heat radiating from his skin. He wanted to lean in and see if that smile tasted as good as it looked. He wanted to feel the rasp of stubble along his palm. He wanted…God, he wanted everything he could get. All of it.

And Eddie…

He’d never been someone to speak his mind about he felt. It was in the things he did for others; from something as small as movie nights and take-out, the brush of his shoulder during a call, or a conversation to each other unwind after a long shift to the monumental trust he’d had in letting him hang out with Chris and the underlying motive of keeping him out of his head…

He blinked back tears, “You…you want _me_?”

Eddie’s smile spread across his face, lines crinkling at the corners of eyes overflowing with fondness and warmth. The transformation was blinding and breathtaking and intoxicating and beautiful…so fucking beautiful to witness.

Buck let out a shaky breath as fingers ghosted along his jaw and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch, trying to remember the last time someone had even done so with such care, such tenderness…

Eddie leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Buck’s. “Of course I do, Evan.”

Buck just stared, wondering what he’d ever done to earn this man’s devotion. “Why?”

Suddenly he looked so _concerned_ , a crease appearing between his brow like he was trying to understand why Buck had even asked that question and weighing his response carefully. His thumb moved absently back and forth of his cheekbone, his smile tinged with sadness as he finally found his words, “Because I love you.”

Buck was sure he should’ve been completely ecstatic. Over the moon with the surprise and shock and joy of finding out that the man he’d fallen head over heels for actually felt the same but he just felt…calm. At peace. Like those feelings had been shown so many times that the words themselves weren’t all that surprising.

He wasn’t sure who’d closed the distance but the moment their lips met, nothing else mattered. Nothing save for the softness of Eddie’s mouth and the fingers that curled around the nape of his neck and drew Buck deeper into his warmth.

He hadn’t even aware he’d been crying until he tasted salt and Eddie pulled back to brush the tears away with that same breathtaking smile. His eyes moved over Buck’s face, seemingly soaking up every detail, “I’m okay, Buck. We’re _both_ okay.”

Buck swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to apologize when Eddie’s thumb brushed along his bottom lip and anything Buck could think of saying went up in smoke at the sight of his honey-brown eyes dropping to his mouth and the last vestiges of worry were gone as he dragged Eddie back into another searing kiss.

Minutes or hours could’ve passed before Eddie pulled back, Buck barely held back his full-body shudder as the man left a single, lingering kiss to his throat before laying his head in the curve where neck met shoulder and letting out a long breath, one arm draped across Buck’s stomach as he burrowed into his side.

Buck looked down at him, “Eddie, what…?”

Eddie tightened his hold, “Wake me up when Chris gets back.”

Buck watched as the man seemingly feel asleep in under five minutes, resting his cheek on the man’s head and closing his eyes. The comforting weight and warmth of Eddie’s body were like a security blanket, the sense of home and safety, and family and love making it much easier for him to the same.

…

Maddie smiled as she quietly approached the sleeping couple, reaching up to brush a stubborn curl off her brother’s forehead before stepping back to grab the folded throw blanket off the coffee table and wrapping it around them.

It was good to see Evan happy. Eddie too.

They more than deserved it.


End file.
